


Welcome to the Crew

by RedTeamShark



Series: Los Santos is No Place for the Innocent [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 09:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: First he needed an inside line to the Lazer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

The thing was, the Lazer’s crew was the best around. The man himself was almost a legend, spoken of in hushed tones, stories told of friends who had friends who had once seen him out and about. He was rumored to be in with some of Los Santos’ most powerful businessmen, the upper crust of the city’s underside. More rumors that he was a name known across the country, a name that gangsters all the way in Liberty City whispered like a curse or a charm. He supposedly had an inside line to the police, a network of loyalty in there that kept just enough heat off his illicit activities to allow them to continue. Even the RWBY Yakuza didn’t have a reliable police inside.

If someone brought an influx of illegal drugs and guns to the city, it was the Lazer. If there was a brutal gangland murder, the victim had probably crossed the Lazer. Late night shoot-outs in warehouses, drive-bys, people who vanished; all attributed to the Lazer. At this point it didn’t matter if the man himself had done it, if a member of his crew had done it, or if it had been completely unrelated to him. The underground whispers all said one name.

For Kerry Shawcross, it was a name to fear, to hate, and to respect.

It was a name attached to a man who he very desperately needed to get in the good graces of.

That, unfortunately, wasn’t always an easy task.

–

Luckily for Kerry, he had a starting point. Miles Luna lived in the apartment next to him and they’d bonded over mutual enjoyment of video games and anime. Miles Luna also was the security coordinator for Burnie Burns, a businessman who was rumored to be closely tied to the Lazer. It took some efforts, some hypothetical questions and a few “but don’t tell anyone” posits, but he managed to be put in touch with one of the Lazer’s men, at least according to Miles.

“I mean, he’ll get you what you’re looking for, I guess. If you’re looking for that kinda stuff.” The man shrugged, running a hand through his messy dark hair. “But, you know, I didn’t send you there and all of that.”

“Relax, Miles. It’s Los Santos. Everyone knows a guy and no one drops his name.” Kerry grinned, waving the other man off. “I gotta get to work anyways, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

He kept it in mind, heading to the gas station he’d been told to go to after work. Kerry glanced around, stopping in to buy a soda, before heading down the alleyway. There was a guy sitting on a dumpster like Miles said there would be, his feet swinging like a little kid. He hopped down as Kerry passed and the brunette tensed, hoping he hadn’t been sent into a mugging.

“What’s up, man?” The guy asked, smiling as Kerry turned around.

“Not a lot…” He answered slowly, looking him up and down. Taller but thinner. Goddammit, everyone was taller than him except some elementary schoolers. “You?”

“Just passin’ time. So, you come walkin’ through this alley specifically?” The guy pushed his glasses up his nose with one thumb, offering a smile. “Or just taking a stroll down the scenic Los Santos dumpster lane?”

Fidgeting slightly, Kerry looked at the ground. “I mean… if you’re asking if I’m looking for something, I am.”

“Something you lost?”

“No, just something that catches my attention.”

“Ah…” The guy laughed, shaking his head. “So you want drugs and a buddy of yours sent you to me. You have good friends, huh?”

“Shit, man, should we be—I mean, cops and stuff…”

Shrugging, the dark-haired man dug into his pocket. “Cops never bother me when I’m out here, they know better. Unless you’re a cop, but if you are than your friend is gonna be in a lot of pain.”

“I’m not a cop.”

“Sounds like somethin’ a cop would say. You need a better line. Here.” The guy tossed a small baggie to him, nodding. “Free sample. Or, you know, enough to take me to prison. I don’t get jumped by bluesuits coming out of this alley and you like what I’m selling, we meet back here in a week.” He turned, grinning over his shoulder. “See ya in a week, man.”

Kerry swallowed, nodding slightly. “In a week…” He agreed quietly, stuffing the dope into the pocket of his jeans and hurrying in the opposite direction.

He had his in.

–

Two months later, Ray invited him back to his apartment to engage in a little “dealer-druggie bonding.” They sat on the couch, pulling hits from the bong and mostly talking about video games. Conversation drifted around the topic, sometimes diverging to the point of them having two separate discussions, generally being cohesive enough that a sober outsider would be able to follow along. Kerry leaned back on the couch, exhaling and smiling giddily.

“Shit, Ray, the stuff you have is always so good. How do you do that?”

Ray snickered, giving him a shove. “Trade secret, asshole. Why would I tell you where I get my kush? Then you’ll just go to him.” He nodded sagely, folding his arms. “Not that he’d sell to you.”

Kerry sat up, frowning across the couch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that my supplier deals in bigger things than an ounce of weed to some strung out college kid looking to chill.” He took another hit, a mellow smile on his lips. “Or, a gram of weed as my stupid British boyfriend would say.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Got a problem with it?”

“No…” He rolled the thought back and forth, smiling. “Must be nice to have someone is all.”

Ray nodded, looking around the apartment for a moment. “It is.” He agreed softly, before passing the bong back to Kerry. “Take some more, man. You’re blazin’ on me, so don’t waste it.”

Kerry took another hit, holding his breath before exhaling slowly. “So what kinda bigger things are we talking? Just bigger quantities, or different stuff?”

“Why are you so interested? Thinking of moving up in the world? I can get you coke, heroin… E if you give me some notice when you want it. Fuck, man, I can get you just about anything if you have the cash for it.” He laughed again, but his dark, red-rimmed gaze was intense.

The brunette shrugged, leaning back and letting his eyes drift around the room, slumping further into the couch. “You ever done anything but weed?”

“Fuck no. I don’t drink, I don’t smoke anything but fine herb, and I don’t do hard shit. If you’re lookin’ for an insider experience, I’m not the guy to talk to.” Ray laughed, the watchfulness of his gaze drifting away as he took another hit.

“How about small stuff? I got a friend that swears by Adderall for exam studying. Can you get prescription stuff?” He asked, swinging his feet onto the coffee table.

“Need some notice, but I can get it for you. Just let me know what you want and when.”

“Will do.” Kerry sighed, letting the silence of the room sink in for a minute. “Hey, Ray…”

“Yeah, man?”

“You ever tried suckin’ your own dick?”

–

It was a good thing he’d settled in for a long game, Kerry decided as he headed for the alley again. He stuffed his hands in his pocket, fidgeting nervously with the cash in there, well aware that he could be watched by any number of Ray’s friends at all times. That the scrawny Puerto Rican dealer was tied to the Lazer wasn’t a question. Outside of Miles’ information, he’d done enough independent research to firmly make the conclusion. Ray sold product that the Lazer had brought in, a fine blend of illegal substances that were all impeccably high quality. The quality and prices both reflected that he wasn’t a reseller. So he was near the top.

“Sup, Kerry-berry?” Ray grinned, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. “How’s the college life?”

“Fuckin’ crazy.” Kerry agreed, pulling his hands from his pocket, biting his lip for a moment. “Hey, uh… if I wanted to resell…”

Ray’s eyes darkened immediately, the friendly smile dropping from his lips. “You’re speaking dangerous words, man.”

“No, no, it’s not like that. A neighbor of mine at my apartment complex used to have a script for medical marijuana. The script ran out and she can’t get another fill, but she’s still in a lot of pain and says she needs it. I’d just be selling to her, at cost. No profit or anything.” He explained quickly, splaying his hands.

“Look, Kerry.” Ray’s face was still serious, his eyes trailing up and down the other man. “I like you, man. You’re super cool and fuck, you’re even pretty good at games. But dealing is different than just buying. It’s a _lot_ more dangerous, and no way in hell you’re ready for that. Even just reselling to your neighbor.”

“What do you mean?”

The Puerto Rican didn’t say anything, only inclined his head back slightly. Kerry followed his gaze, swallowing thickly as he saw the one thing he’d missed over the months of meeting Ray in different alleys. “Is that…?”

“That’d be the boyfriend. He watches my back when I sell. Because we both know you can’t trust a druggie. Maybe you’re cool, maybe one day you decide you don’t like my prices and pull a knife on me. He’s there to put a bullet in your head before you ever scratch my skin.” Ray waved slightly, smiling calmly back at Kerry. “Reselling just makes you start thinking about things that you don’t if you’re just buying. How much more you can buy if you get it cheaper and sell it higher. How you can cut in some poor quality product to make what you have last longer. All sorts of dangerous things. Unless I get a direct go-ahead from the boss, I’m not gonna sell you anything for resale. And if you go behind my back, start reselling anyways, we’re fucking done. You better be able to run faster and further than we can trace if you betray me, Kerry.” Ray’s smile had fallen off his face, his eyes cold and serious. “Do you want to buy tonight, or do you want to walk away before trouble starts?”

Fidgeting slightly, Kerry dropped his gaze to the ground. “I’ll buy.” He muttered, carefully pulling money from his pocket. “No reselling.” He agreed quietly, daring a glance up again. “I get it. I like what you sell, Ray, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“Good man, Kerry.” Ray made the swap of money for drugs expertly, smiling. “It’s nothing personal, man. It’s just rules. You’re still a cool guy.”

He nodded, stuffing the baggie into his pocket, daring a smile. “Who’s this boss of yours, anyways?”

Ray’s eyes narrowed slightly, his frown returning. “Don’t play dumb, Kerry. You know damn well who I work for.” He stepped back, folding his arms. “Go on home now.”

With another nod, Kerry sent a nervous glance towards the roof, eyeing the man up there in dark sunglasses with a pistol trained on him. He turned away, stuffing his hands back into his pockets as he left the alley. That wasn’t how he’d expected things to go…

But it was a start. Now he had information, and information was good.

–

Progress was made.

Kerry met with Ray every week or so, would buy from him and go home, or make a purchase and hang out with the other man. Sometimes they’d go back to Ray’s apartment, sometimes they’d wander around town. He finally met Gavin, Ray’s boyfriend, and the British man seemed cool—a bit scatter-brained, but chill enough when Ray wasn’t selling. The three of them had fun together, laughing and playfully fighting.

It was a late night after an afternoon of stoned trips to specialty bakeries and way too many pastries, the trio strolling through a trash-strewn alley like it was the safest place in the world. Gavin and Ray had their hands linked, walking slightly behind Kerry as the brunette carried their haul of deluxe sweets. None of them saw the man until he stepped in front of them, none of them realized what it meant until he had the knife out.

“Gimme your money and your drugs.” The guy hissed, gesturing towards Kerry with his knife. Ray’s laughter stopped immediately, his hand dropping from Gavin’s, getting ready to reach for his gun.

Before he could even grasp it, however, Kerry had pulled a gun from the back of his own pants, flicking the safety off and pointing it at the knife-wielding man. “You wanna walk away from this, bro.” He muttered, voice cold, posture suddenly intimidating—he seemed to tower over the guy with the knife, despite being several inches shorter.

Tense silence fell over the four for a long stretch of seconds, before the guy released his knife, the metal clattering to the ground. He turned and ran, pausing near the end of the alley to turn and shout. “You’ll regret that, punk!”

Kerry pulled the trigger without hesitating, the gunshot echoing in the narrow alley, bullet chipping the concrete in front of the retreating man. “The next one goes through your fucking skull.” The brunette spoke over the echoing gunshot, waiting until the man was out of sight to put the safety back on. He turned, tucking his gun back into his pants and noting the slack-jawed looks the other two were giving him. “What? Los Santos is a dangerous place.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kerry.” Ray was grinning, however, stepping forward and slinging an arm around his shoulders. “I think my boss would like you.”

Kerry shrugged modestly, looking down and wheezing in a sudden breath. “Did that really just fucking happen?”

Gavin was beside him as well, clapping him on the back. “Keep it together, man. You didn’t even put a bullet in the guy.”

Rubbing his palms into his eyes, Kerry shook his head. “Fuck.” He muttered, glancing at the other two from between his fingers. “I think I better call it a night.”

Ray and Gavin both nodded, heading out of the alley with him. They waited at the bus stop until Kerry got on, assuring him that they had their own way home when he turned nervous eyes on them.

Once they’d seen Kerry onto the bus, Gavin pulled out his cell phone, dialing quickly. “Jack.” He spoke, grinning widely. “There’s someone that we’d like Geoff to meet, if you’d like to schedule it.”

Ray nodded, watching the retreating taillights of the bus. He knew he’d been right about Kerry—one slip-up and the brunette had understood his place… one dangerous situation and he’d proven his worth.

Geoff would like him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now he needed to prove his loyalty.

Getting in with the Lazer’s crew was easier than he expected in some ways… and much, much harder in others.

Ray came to him with a job offer, a simple delivery run to someone they trusted. Gavin wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t do it and Ray himself had another job to take care of. “Don’t sweat it, J.J.’s cool.” The Puerto Rican promised, grinning. “I mean, Blaine’s probably gonna be there, and he’s scary as fuck, but J.J. keeps him on a short leash.” He snickered, some sort of private joke, and Kerry nodded doubtfully.

“I guess I can do it, if you say it’s fine. Bring the money back to your place?”

“That’ll work.” Ray stuffed the delivery into Kerry’s pocket, ruffling his hair lightly. “You know where you’re headed?”

“Matt’s Garage. I’ve heard of it, should be able to find it on the bus route.” He agreed, patting down the pocket of his jacket.

“J.J.’ll be around the back, most likely. Just ask around for him.”

So he’d gone, delivered, and taken payment. He’d brought it back to Ray’s place, leaving it there, not a cent short—he knew a test when he saw one. At their regular meeting the next week, Ray offered to have Kerry tag along with him on some other deals.

“I thought that Gavin only had a motorcycle, though?” He questioned, handing over his cash and stuffing the baggie of weed into the pocket of his hoodie.

“We’re not working with Gavin.” Ray took his arm, pulling him out of the alley and over to a car, a tall, broad-shouldered man leaning against the door. “Kerry, this is Ryan.”

“Hey.” The brunette leaning on the car greeted, nodding slightly. “So you’re the guy that Ray thinks is up for some dirty work, huh?”

–

Kerry leaned over the toilet in the filthy men’s room, heaving and panting for breath. When a warm hand ran over his upper back, he glanced up gratefully, expecting to see Ray. He nearly jumped out of his skin to see Ryan there instead, the older man’s blood-splattered face thoughtful.

“You held it together until after he was dead. Good job.”

–

The jobs continued, little pieces of dirty work that were obvious tests. Over the weeks he met more people that were tied with the Lazer, members of his inner circle—as he quickly found out that Ryan was. The bloodstains washed off his hands easily, the screams echoing between his ears much harder to get rid of.

He only wished he could have foreseen what his final test would be. It wouldn’t have changed his determination to be accepted as part of the crew, but being able to be prepared for it certainly would have helped.

Ray slipped him an address along with his usual weekly purchase, his face serious. “There’s something important for you to do there, tomorrow at four. Don’t be late.”

Kerry nodded, one eyebrow lifting. “Can I ask about it?”

“Just be there. That’s all that I know about it.” Ray raised his eyebrows, shrugging. “Don’t stress about it too much, though. Bossman’s been getting nothing but good feedback about you as far as I know.”

He took the bus to the nearby stop, the doorman of the apartment complex letting him in. At the indicated apartment number, a second doorman unlocked the door for him, nodding him inside. As Kerry passed the threshold, the door shut behind him, the sound of a lock turning loud in the empty room.

The nearly empty room, he amended, eyeing the studio apartment warily. A single bed was against the far wall. The only other items he saw in the room sat on the tiled kitchenette’s small counter: a bottle of fine whiskey standing proudly between two glasses. Kerry swallowed thickly, stepping across the smooth carpeting and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

He wasn’t sure what kind of job this was, couldn’t even begin to guess. Fidgeting slightly with the blanket, Kerry only hoped it wasn’t some sort of elaborate murder—but he was pretty sure that if the Lazer (or any one of his men) had reason to kill him, they would just shoot him. No elaborate ruse needed.

There was a brusque knock on the door before the bolt flipped, a man letting himself in. Kerry eyed him up and down, swallowing slightly. He looked like the sort of thug sent to beat people up for stepping out of line—well-built if not overly muscular, tattoos crawling up and down his arms, eyes that, while sleepy-looking at first, were cold and calculating. The only thing that really ruined the image was the man’s absurd handlebar mustache, but even that had a certain level of intimidation to it.

“So…” The man drawled, strolling over to the kitchenette and pouring himself a glass of the whiskey. “You’re Kerry. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Kerry swallowed, nodding slightly. “I am.” He squeaked out, watching the guy from the corner of his eye. “Uh, good things, I hope?”

The man laughed, swallowing his drink and pouring another. “Good things. You want to get in good with the Lazer, huh? Move up in the world from druggie college flunk-out to… what? Druggie college flunk-out with friends who also know how to use a gun?”

Still fidgeting with the blanket, Kerry nodded. “I want to make something of myself…” He began, daring a glance into the man’s eyes. “Working for the Lazer, it’s doing something big with my life.”

“You got screwed up priorities, Mister Baggins, but I’ll accept it. You’re starting from the bottom, though, you know that? Just because you’re buddies with someone who might know someone doesn’t mean you get special treatment.” The man approached him slowly, settling onto the bed next to him. One hand brushed Kerry’s thigh and he swallowed. So that’s what the bottom meant.

No need to beat around the bush, then. At least now he knew what was going on and, after a quick mental conversation, he was okay with it. “Well… at least I’m ready to be on the bottom.” He muttered, spreading his denim-clad thighs apart slightly. “I’m sure I’ll earn whatever you give me.”

The man’s mouth stretched into a grin, the cold calculation leaving his eyes for a moment. “Goddamn, I bet you will.” He whispered, leaning closer, whiskey-tinged mouth hovering centimeters from Kerry’s lips. “You’re allowed to refuse, though. Understand?”

“I’m not refusing.” He swallowed, closing the last gap and pressing his lips to the older man’s, eyes slipping closed. Lips works against his, a hand sliding up his thigh. The weight on the bed shifted and Kerry let himself be laid down, aware of the light press of the other man’s hand into the mattress next to his head as he was hovered over. Hips rolled down and pressed into his and Kerry moaned, his eyes shooting open. The kiss pulled apart, the man dipping his head down, biting and sucking the skin on the brunette’s neck.

“You’re gonna get fucked, you know.” The tattooed man whispered, hand not supporting his weight running down Kerry’s torso, tugging at his t-shirt. “This isn’t just foreplay.”

“That’s fine.” Arching his back up slightly to allow his t-shirt to be pulled off, Kerry fought down a shiver. “I’m fine with it.”

“Ever been fucked by a guy before?” The lips continued to move down his body, though blue eyes stayed locked on his face.

“Few times…” Kerry muttered, flushing slightly.

“Boyfriend?”

He shook his head, groaning as a hand passed over the front of his pants. “They paid me.”

That made the man pause, a small laugh leaving him. “Well. That was unexpected.” He pressed another kiss to Kerry’s mouth, one hand brushing through his hair slowly. “How do you like it, then?”

“However you want is fine with me. I guess, uh… I guess don’t slap me around or choke me or stuff like that.” His head fell back, a small groan leaving him as a hand pressed against the front of his jeans. “Fuck.”

The man pulled away slowly, tugging his own t-shirt off, undoing his jeans. “Take your pants off, then.” He commanded quietly, Kerry rushing to comply, kicking his jeans off. “Boxers too.” He wiggled the cotton down his thighs, glancing up with a raised eyebrow. “Socks can stay on.” The guy offered, looking him up and down slowly. “On your knees, spread yourself open for me.”

Aware that his cheeks were probably burning crimson, Kerry moved onto his knees, slowly bending forward until his chest rested on the bed. He spread his thighs apart, reaching back and holding himself open, a small whimper leaving him as a cool, lubricated finger pressed into him. “Ah, shit…”

“Painful?” The man questioned, one hand stroking along his spine slowly, finger pressing deeper. Kerry shook his head, groaning as the finger fully penetrated him. It’d been a while since he’d actually done this and despite the lube and the slow pace, the man’s hands were somewhat rough. One finger slid in and out of him steadily for a few minutes, before a second one was added. Kerry’s arms fell away from his sides, dropping to the bed and gripping the sheets.

He panted as he was fingered, closing his eyes tightly and starting to move into the intrusion as it became less painful, the burn of penetration giving way to pleasure as his prostate was prodded for, found, and rubbed vigorously. Above him the tattooed man laughed softly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the small of his back.

When the fingers left him, Kerry tried to stay relaxed, well aware of what was coming next. He heard the rustle of a package behind him and let out a small sigh of relief that there would apparently be a condom involved. Of all the things to forget to mention…

The weight shifted on the bed again, the brunette sending a glance over his shoulder and shivering slightly. Behind him, the tattooed stranger definitely looked intimidating again, latex-coated erection in one hand, blue eyes focused on Kerry. The man pressed against him slowly, entering him with a small groan which Kerry echoed. Hands gripped his hips, holding him steady as the older man behind him began to thrust.

Strings of filthy language spilled over him, praises and condemnations mixed together dizzyingly. For his own sake, Kerry tuned it out, gasping as a hand slipped around him and began to jerk him off. He’d barely considered his own pleasure, reasoning that this was nothing more than the times he’d sold his body for money—the guy would get off, give him what he wanted, and leave and if he really wanted to, Kerry could jerk off when he was gone. To have a hand, large and rough and unfamiliar (a right hand, too, _definitely_ different from his usual) wrapped around his dick sent shocks of pleasure down his spine, hips moving both into the touch and into the cock thrusting into him.

“You’re such a good fuckin’ cockslut…” The man mumbled above him, groaning and moving faster. His hand tightened around Kerry’s cock, drawing a tight-lipped whimper from the brunette. “Fuck, baby, c’mon… just a little more…” The hips pressing to his stuttered in their pace, before picking up speed. The man bent over him as he fucked him, hot whiskey breath against the side of Kerry’s face. “Tell me that you like it. Tell me that you like gettin’ fucked by a stranger.” He commanded, teeth nipping at the younger’s shoulder.

“F-fuck…” Kerry groaned, moving his hips to match the almost brutal pace. “I love it! I-I love gettin’ fucked by… by strangers!” He squeaked out, squeezing his eyes shut. The man’s hips stilled against his ass, a long, low groan in his ear. The hand on his cock sped up, squeezing lightly, thumb brushing the head.

“Then cum with a stranger’s dick in your ass, pretty boy. Cum with your ass full of jizz that belongs to a man who’s name you don’t even know.”

Kerry did as commanded, crying out and clawing at the sheets as he came. He fell forward, panting and staring at the wall, nearly lost in the post-orgasmic haze.

When he came around, the man was staring at him, fully dressed and once again looking cold and intimidating. “Yeah.” He said, as if continuing a conversation, watching as Kerry sat up and began to dress. “You belong on the bottom.”

The tattooed stranger left without another word, leaving the door unlocked behind him.

–

Three days later, Ray took Kerry to officially meet the Lazer for the first time.

The man introduced as Geoffrey Lazer Ramsey gave him a wicked grin, looking him up and down with blue eyes that were sleepy at a glance, but cold and calculating upon more intense inspection. He lifted one intricately tattooed arm, twirling his absurd handlebar mustache like a villain in an old movie.

“You start on the bottom, Mister Baggins.” The Lazer said at last, nodding. “Jack will take care of the finer details.” Geoff stood, spreading his arms with a broad smile.

“Welcome to the crew.”


End file.
